


Cooking with Cass

by ProxyZee



Category: Batgirl (Comics), Batman (Comics), Batman - All Media Types
Genre: Cooking, Freindship, Gen, Learning to read, Self-Teaching
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-25
Updated: 2019-08-25
Packaged: 2020-09-26 17:04:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,127
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20393152
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ProxyZee/pseuds/ProxyZee
Summary: Cassandra Cain tries to cook dinner for the night. With a different kind of result.





	Cooking with Cass

“You’re sure about this, Cass?” asked an uncertain Barbara while Alfred looked to the quiet Tibetan native with a proud smile.

“I for one, Ms. Gordon, support Ms. Cain’s initiative in preparing tonight’s dinner. Not only is she enthusiastic for cooking as her frequent observations of my meal preparation show, but I also get to have a night away from the kitchen for one,” said Alfred as he adjusted his round glasses.

Barbara looked to the elderly butler with concern, but not as much as she gave to Cass when she looked to the young, quiet woman with a raised brow behind her thin, rectangular glasses. She sighed as she leaned against the kitchen counter with crossed arms.

“You’re sure about this? From a book?”

Cass nods with confidence.

“It may have been over three years with the alphabet Cass, but reading a book’s still gonna be a challenge. Even a cookbook.”

Cass frowned a little.

“Want to cook.”

Alfred chuckled. Barbara smiled with some admiration for her determination in performing the task.

“Well, as long as you don’t overdo it. If you need help just ask for it, okay?”

Cass nodded without admitting that she was certain she would do a good enough job on her own. Not just in cooking, but in reading something as simply laid out as a cookbook. Step-by-step recipes. Cassandra smiled at the thought of reading a page line by line with the success she thought was obvious. Just line after separated line with hardly any paragraphs.

She excitedly rubbed her hands together as she looked to the thick book laying on the counter. Barbara and Alfred leave her to her task with a jovial “Good luck.” from the former. Cass waved to them before she gave the book a determined, fierce glare. As if she was about to face off against an opponent.

In preparation for her culinary session, Cass took a white apron from the kitchen closet, and ties it around her waist. Not bothering to check the front design to notice the large red lips with “Compliment the chef with a kiss” in black font underneath. Then she places a white and instantly recognizable chef’s hat atop her head. She cracks her knuckles with outstretched arms, and sets to work on the first step of cooking: Reading the recipe.

Gently, she lays a hand onto the face of the book. Its cover depicted a sunny, bright picture of a selection of vegetables all uncut on a chopping board. She sighed to herself before turning the page over. Then another once she realized from the small, black greenhouse logo that it was just the title page. She then found the index, and ran a finger, carefully, along with each listed dish. She found the amount there were a little daunting especially after turning over the next couple of pages to find more listed dishes.

Her face leaned in very closely to the pages. So much that her nose was almost brushing against them. She quints her eyes at the dark, interconnected lines that she knew to be letters. Her mind attempted to connect them to words. She had some success when she discovered that the words she did recognize were contained in the index.

“Apple p-pie. B-butt-ttersc-scot-tch p-puuuudinnnnng. Avac-avacad-cado sa-sal-ad.”

She ruffles her hair with some nervousness as she continues to attempt to read the index.

“Cin-cina-na-mon b-un. Bun.”

She smiled to herself. She started to feel a little more confident.

“R-rice p-pud-ud-ing. Ch-ch.”

She paused for a moment to wipe some sweat off her forehead with her arm before she looked back to the word she tried to decipher.

“Ch-i-ick-en ba-ba-bary.”

She groaned to herself in frustration before shrugging. Cassandra felt conscious of how long she was taking with just reading the words anyway. So she opted for just looking at the pictures, and deciding to cook based on her selection of whatever looked the tastiest. She did not have to search too much until she found something that appealed to her tastes. She could barely read what she assumed to be the name based on the large lettering in comparison to the small font list beneath it, but she knew Thenthuk noodle soup when she saw it.

Cass then attempted to read through the ingredients, and the proper method, at least according to the recipe, of including them. Cass was a little confused at first to see small numbers with the names until she recalled Alfred often using measurement tools for certain ingredients that were typically marked with numbers that often had slashes between them.

Her excitement grew a little more. She was certain this she was getting better at this. That was until she actually tried to read the words. More she could barely read.

“One he-he-hea-eapi-ing cup all p-pur-purp-ose fl-our.”

Cass sighed. She looked to the quietly ticking clock on the wall. It had so far been ten minutes of her trying to read the recipe when if it was anyone else in the manor, the water would already be boiled.

She looked to the book with a frown. Instead of trying to carefully read through the ingredient list, she just quickly skimmed through it with her eyes over and over. Not that it was making her reading any better, but the pressure of straining her undeveloped literary skill was dangerously on the verge of beginning to make her head come to a throbbing sensation.

She looked to the letters quite a bit more closely this time. Her finger gently touches upon them one by one. Then an idea came to mind. She smiled to herself before she hurriedly opens a top cabinet where she knew some of the miscellaneous items as far as kitchens go were kept. She quickly looks over the papers, fridge magnets, old magazines, and other junk to find the pen rack. Quickly, she takes one from its slot, and brings it to the book.

One by one, she circled a letter to an ingredient before she would replicate it with the pen on a blank piece of the page. For each letter, she made vocalizations with her cords and lips, and she would not write the next letter until she was certain she got the phonetic sound correct.

Once she listed all the letters in the first ingredient on the list.

“One heaping cup all-purpose flour.”

Cassandra smiled to herself like a maniac as she tensed up her body from being so giddy at saying a sentence that long without a stutter. She began the process of writing down the letters of the next item in the list.

“One and a half (She found it much easier to read the numbered measurements) cup of w-wa-ter. B-boi-oiled.”

She sighed to herself before deciding to give her pronunciation of the ingredient another attempt. She was in little mood to let the lack of literary education overcome her. Not when she was in a position to provide it to her own mind.

“One and a half cup of water. Boiled.”

She grins as she continues her practice. Space after blank space was filled with wet, black ink as she used the book as her personal sounding board.

“One-quarter teaspoon of salt and quarter teaspoon of pepper.”

“One teaspoon of oil.”

“Two or three tablespoons of vegetable oil.”

“One clove of garlic, finely chopped.”

She read out the ingredients with near disbelief, and awe at her own progress. She felt a great warmth within her. The sense of finally achieving something she had long thought was not likely to ever come to her. Even with the lessons, she was getting from Barbara.

She had come to the last ingredient on the list. The page of the cookbook had by now been almost completely marked in it’s pale, off-white space with her personal way of keeping track of herself. Nervously, she licks her lip before she prepares to read the final ingredient.

“Soy sauce or salt in the broth.”

She excitedly prepares to fill the kettle with water from the tap. She made sure to try and keep her instructions memorized for the dish she selected. In a dash fuelled with a burst of happy eagerness, she picks up the kettle and places it under the tap with her hand moving toward it.

Just as a soft, crinkling and rustling sound at her side stopped her. She looks tot he source of the sound to see a brown paper bag with a red burger logo on it. The same kind of red that reminded her of ketchup. She instantly recognized the logo to belong to a popular, international fast-food chain.

With a confused, stare she looks to an awkward, uncomfortable-looking Barbara Gordon as she holds a partially eaten burger with the wrapper bearing smaller versions of the logo in her hand. She rubs the back of her head as she smiles.

“Uh, hey Cass. Brough ya something from Wally’s.”

“W-wally’s?” asked Cass. Not that she didn’t know about them already. She was still trying to process why Barbara was standing there as her excitement winded down.

“Yeah you were taking so long we just ended up ordering. Sorry.”

Cassandra looked down in dismay. It seemed to her that her efforts were in vain. Barbara looks to Cassandra with a sad look behind her glasses that were also mixed with no small amount of guilt. She silently berated herself for not telling Cass sooner. If only she hadn’t told herself not to disappoint her friend and student too early while thinking the meal in the bag would be a fair consolation gift.

Barbara looks to the book behind Cassandra, and noticed the unusual ink writing where it shouldn’t be on the page. She steps forward and gently lays a hand on the page. Quietly, observing all the circled letters on the formerly blank sides.

“Wait. You made this?” asked Barbara as she looks to Cass.

“Yes,” said Cass as she nodded with a small, coy smile.

“Wow. Now I know why it took so long.”

Barbara looked back to the page with an impressed, and, much to Cass’s quiet delight, proud smile. Barbara takes a bite from her burger as she looks to the page. Her face was the picture of a stunned, awed teacher discovering their student’s prize project.

Alfred entered the room with a quiet slurping from a milkshake he carried in his hand. He removes his mouth from the straw, and gives Cass an apologetic look.

“Apologies, Ms. Cain, but we were getting quite hungry. I’m sure you understand?”

Cass nods. She quietly mutters “Sorry.” to which the butler shook his head in dismissal.

“Nonsense. I can appreciate you at least making an attempt whatever amount of success it had.”

“She didn’t even start, Alfred. She did this instead.”

Alfred looks to Barbara with an “Mmm?” before he approaches her. She gestures to the cookbook while standing back to give him more room. Alfred takes another drink from the shake as his eyes widen a little at the sight of the lettering map.

“My, what’s this?”

“Cass’ had been spelling out the ingredients for herself. She must have been practicing each letter.”

Alfred turns to look at the awkwardly smiling, Cassandra. She was beginning to feel a little nervous with the attention she was getting.

“I must say I’m quite proud of you, young lady. Barbara too by extension. It seems her tuition is having quite the impression.”

“I, uh. Thank you.”

“Oh, don’t thank me, dear. You should be thanking Barbara and yourself.”

Barbara looks tot he page while taking another bite. She then looks to Cass with a curious, hopeful expression.

“Uh, Cass? If you don’t mind, could you try reading it?”

Cass looked at Barbara with uncertainty. Then she noticed the hope she had in her eyes. That shining expectation behind her glasses was too much for the young woman to say no to.

“I-I’ll try,” said Cass as she turned her head toward the book. She steps up to it, and looks tot he recipe with a deep breath. Barbara and Alfred silently look to her with heightened expectation as Cass gently laid a hand on the page with her eyes carefully observing the recipe letter by letter.

“One heaping cup all-purpose flour. One and a half cup of water. Boiled. One-quarter teaspoon of salt and a quarter teaspoon of pepper...”

Her recital of the recipe ended with Barbara’s sudden embrace that stunned her, and even Alfred who then looked on at the sight with a heartfelt smile. Cass wrapped her arms around the redhead as she smiled with a warmed, gracious feeling.

“Can I say I’m really proud of you?”

“I’m proud of you for having the patience.”


End file.
